There began now to be a decided change in the appearance of things.
The days became shorter and shorter; the sun running lower in its
course each day, and giving less and less heat, and the nights so
cold as to prevent our sleeping on deck; the Magellan Clouds in
sight, of a clear, moonless night; the skies looking cold and angry;
and, at times, a long, heavy, ugly sea, setting in from the
southward, told us what we were coming to. Still, however, we had a
fine, strong breeze, and kept on our way under as much sail as our
ship would bear. Toward the middle of the week, the wind hauled to
the southward, which brought us upon a taut bowline, made the ship
meet, nearly head-on, the heavy swell which rolled from that
quarter; and there was something not at all encouraging in the
manner in which she met it. Being still so deep and heavy, she
wanted the buoyancy which should have carried her over the seas,
and she dropped heavily into them, the water washing over the
decks; and every now and then, when an unusually large sea met her
fairly upon the bows, she struck it with a sound as dead and heavy
as that with which a sledge-hammer falls upon the pile, and took
the whole of it in upon the forecastle, and, rising, carried it
aft in the scuppers, washing the rigging off the pins, and
carrying along with it everything which was loose on deck. She had
been acting in this way all of our forenoon watch below; as we
could tell by the washing of the water over our heads, and the
heavy breaking of the seas against her bows, only the thickness of
a plank from our heads, as we lay in our berths, which are
directly against the bows. At eight bells, the watch was called,
and we came on deck, one hand going aft to take the wheel, and
another going to the galley to get the grub for dinner. I stood on
the forecastle, looking at the seas, which were rolling high, as
far as the eye could reach, their tops white with foam, and the
body of them of a deep indigo blue, reflecting the bright rays of
the sun. Our ship rose slowly over a few of the largest of them,
until one immense fellow came rolling on, threatening to cover
her, and which I was sailor enough to know, by the ``feeling of
her'' under my feet, she would not rise over. I sprang upon the
knight-heads, and, seizing hold of the fore-stay, drew myself up
upon it. My feet were just off the stanchion when the bow struck
fairly into the middle of the sea, and it washed the ship fore and
aft, burying her in the water. As soon as she rose out of it, I
looked aft, and everything forward of the mainmast, except the
long-boat, which was griped and double-lashed down to the
ring-bolts, was swept off clear. The galley, the pigsty, the
hen-coop, and a large sheep-pen which had been built upon the
fore-hatch, were all gone in the twinkling of an eye,-- leaving
the deck as clean as a chin new reaped,-- and not a stick left to
show where anything had stood. In the scuppers lay the galley,
bottom up, and a few boards floating about,-- the wreck of the
sheep-pen,-- and half a dozen miserable sheep floating among them,
wet through, and not a little frightened at the sudden change that
had come upon them. As soon as the sea had washed by, all hands
sprang up out of the forecastle to see what had become of the
ship; and in a few moments the cook and Old Bill crawled out from
under the galley, where they had been lying in the water, nearly
smothered, with the galley over them. Fortunately, it rested
against the bulwarks, or it would have broken some of their bones.
When the water ran off, we picked the sheep up, and put them in
the long-boat, got the galley back in its place, and set things a
little to rights; but, had not our ship had uncommonly high
bulwarks and rail, everything must have been washed overboard, not
excepting Old Bill and the cook. Bill had been standing at the
galley-door, with the kid of beef in his hand for the forecastle
mess, when away he went, kid, beef, and all. He held on to the kid
to the last, like a good fellow, but the beef was gone, and when
the water had run off we saw it lying high and dry, like a rock at
low tide,-- nothing could hurt that. We took the loss of our beef
very easily, consoling ourselves with the recollection that the
cabin had more to lose than we; and chuckled not a little at
seeing the remains of the chicken-pie and pancakes floating in the
scuppers. ``This will never do!'' was what some said, and every
one felt. Here we were, not yet within a thousand miles of the
latitude of Cape Horn, and our decks swept by a sea not one half
so high as we must expect to find there. Some blamed the captain
for loading his ship so deep when he knew what he must expect;
while others said that the wind was always southwest, off the
Cape, in the winter, and that, running before it, we should not
mind the seas so much. When we got down into the forecastle, Old
Bill, who was somewhat of a croaker,-- having met with a great
many accidents at sea,-- said that, if that was the way she was
going to act, we might as well make our wills, and balance the
books at once, and put on a clean shirt. ``'Vast there, you bloody
old owl! you're always hanging out blue lights! You're frightened
by the ducking you got in the scuppers, and can't take a joke!
What's the use in being always on the lookout for Davy Jones?''
``Stand by!'' says another, ``and we'll get an afternoon watch
below, by this scrape''; but in this they were disappointed, for
at two bells all hands were called and set to work, getting
lashings upon everything on deck; and the captain talked of
sending down the long top-gallant-masts; but as the sea went down
toward night, and the wind hauled abeam, we left them standing,
and set the studding-sails.
The next day all hands were turned-to upon unbending the old
sails, and getting up the new ones; for a ship, unlike people on
shore, puts on her best suit in bad weather. The old sails were
sent down, and three new topsails, and new fore and main courses,
jib, and fore-topmast staysail, which were made on the coast and
never had been used, were bent, with a complete set of new
earings, robands, and reef-points; and reef-tackles were rove to
the courses, and spilling-lines to the topsails. These, with new
braces and clew-lines fore and aft, gave us a good suit of running
rigging.
The wind continued westerly, and the weather and sea less rough
since the day on which we shipped the heavy sea, and we were
making great progress under studding-sails, with our light sails
all set, keeping a little to the eastward of south; for the
captain, depending upon westerly winds off the Cape, had kept so
far to the westward that, though we were within about five hundred
miles of the latitude of Cape Horn, we were nearly seventeen
hundred miles to the westward of it. Through the rest of the week
we continued on with a fair wind, gradually, as we got more to the
southward, keeping a more easterly course, and bringing the wind
on our larboard quarter, until--
Sunday, June 26th, when, having a fine, clear day, the captain got
a lunar observation, as well as his meridian altitude, which made
us in lat. 47° 50' S., lon. 113° 49' W.; Cape Horn bearing,
according to my calculations, E. S. E. 1/2 E., and distant eighteen
hundred miles.
Monday, June 27th. During the first part of this day the wind
continued fair, and, as we were going before it, it did not feel
very cold, so that we kept at work on deck in our common clothes
and round jackets. Our watch had an afternoon watch below for the
first time since leaving San Diego; and, having inquired of the
third mate what the latitude was at noon, and made our usual
guesses as to the time she would need to be up with the Horn, we
turned-in for a nap. We were sleeping away ``at the rate of
knots,'' when three knocks on the scuttle and ``All hands, ahoy!''
started us from our berths. What could be the matter? It did not
appear to be blowing hard, and, looking up through the scuttle, we
could see that it was a clear day overhead; yet the watch were
taking in sail. We thought there must be a sail in sight, and that
we were about to heave-to and speak her; and were just
congratulating ourselves upon it,-- for we had seen neither sail
nor land since we left port,-- when we heard the mate's voice on
deck (he turned-in ``all-standing,'' and was always on deck the
moment he was called) singing out to the men who were taking in
the studding-sails, and asking where his watch were. We did not
wait for a second call, but tumbled up the ladder; and there, on
the starboard bow, was a bank of mist, covering sea and sky, and
driving directly for us. I had seen the same before in my passage
round in the Pilgrim, and knew what it meant, and that there was
no time to be lost. We had nothing on but thin clothes, yet there
was not a moment to spare, and at it we went.
The boys of the other watch were in the tops, taking in the
top-gallant studding-sails and the lower and topmast
studding-sails were coming down by the run. It was nothing but
``haul down and clew up,'' until we got all the studding-sails in,
and the royals, flying jib, and mizzen top-gallant-sail furled,
and the ship kept off a little, to take the squall. The fore and
main top-gallant sails were still on her, for the ``old man'' did
not mean to be frightened in broad daylight, and was determined to
carry sail till the last minute. We all stood waiting for its
coming, when the first blast showed us that it was not to be
trifled with. Rain, sleet, snow, and wind enough to take our
breath from us, and make the toughest turn his back to windward!
The ship lay nearly over upon her beam-ends; the spars and rigging
snapped and cracked; and her top-gallant-masts bent like
whip-sticks. ``Clew up the fore and main top-gallant-sails!''
shouted the captain, and all hands sprang to the clew-lines. The
decks were standing nearly at an angle of forty-five degrees, and
the ship going like a mad steed through the water, the whole
forward part of her in a smother of foam. The halyards were let
go, and the yard clewed down, and the sheets started, and in a few
minutes the sails smothered and kept in by clewlines and
buntlines. ``Furl 'em, sir?'' asked the mate. ``Let go the topsail
halyards, fore and aft!'' shouted the captain in answer, at the
top of his voice. Down came the topsail yards, the reef-tackles
were manned and hauled out, and we climbed up to windward, and
sprang into the weather rigging. The violence of the wind, and the
hail and sleet, driving nearly horizontally across the ocean,
seemed actually to pin us down to the rigging. It was hard work
making head against them. One after another we got out upon the
yards. And here we had work to do; for our new sails had hardly
been bent long enough to get the stiffness out of them, and the
new earings and reef-points, stiffened with the sleet, knotted
like pieces of iron wire. Having only our round jackets and straw
hats on, we were soon wet through, and it was every moment growing
colder. Our hands were soon numbed, which, added to the stiffness
of everything else, kept us a good while on the yard. After we had
got the sail hauled upon the yard, we had to wait a long time for
the weather earing to be passed; but there was no fault to be
found, for French John was at the earing, and a better sailor
never laid out on a yard; so we leaned over the yard and beat our
hands upon the sail to keep them from freezing. At length the word
came, ``Haul out to leeward,'' and we seized the reef-points and
hauled the band taut for the lee earing. ``Taut band-- knot
away,'' and we got the first reef fast, and were just going to lay
down, when-- ``Two reefs-- two reefs!'' shouted the mate, and we
had a second reef to take, in the same way. When this was fast we
went down on deck, manned the halyards to leeward, nearly up to
our knees in water, set the topsail, and then laid aloft on the
main topsail yard, and reefed that sail in the same manner; for,
as I have before stated, we were a good deal reduced in numbers,
and, to make it worse, the carpenter, only two days before, had
cut his leg with an axe, so that he could not go aloft. This
weakened us so that we could not well manage more than one topsail
at a time, in such weather as this, and, of course, each man's
labor was doubled. From the main topsail yard, we went upon the
main yard, and took a reef in the mainsail. No sooner had we got
on deck than-- ``Lay aloft there, and close-reef mizzen topsail!''
This called me; and, being nearest to the rigging, I got first
aloft, and out to the weather earing. English Ben was up just
after me, and took the lee earing, and the rest of our gang were
soon on the yard, and began to fist the sail, when the mate
considerately sent up the cook and steward to help us. I could now
account for the long time it took to pass the other earings, for,
to do my best, with a strong hand to help me at the dog's ear, I
could not get it passed until I heard them beginning to complain
in the bunt. One reef after another we took in, until the sail was
close-reefed, when we went down and hoisted away at the halyards.
In the mean time, the jib had been furled and the staysail set,
and the ship under her reduced sail had got more upright, and was
under management; but the two top-gallant-sails were still hanging
in the buntlines, and slatting and jerking as though they would
take the masts out of her. We gave a look aloft, and knew that our
work was not done yet; and, sure enough, no sooner did the mate
see that we were on deck than-- ``Lay aloft there, four of you,
and furl the top-gallant-sails!'' This called me again, and two of
us went aloft up the fore rigging, and two more up the main, upon
the top-gallant yards. The shrouds were now iced over, the sleet
having formed a crust round all the standing rigging, and on the
weather side of the masts and yards. When we got upon the yard, my
hands were so numb that I could not have cast off the knot of the
gasket if it were to save my life. We both lay over the yard for a
few seconds, beating our hands upon the sail, until we started the
blood into our fingers' ends, and at the next moment our hands
were in a burning heat. My companion on the yard was a lad (the
boy, George Somerby), who came out in the ship a weak, puny boy,
from one of the Boston schools,-- ``no larger than a
spritsail-sheet knot,'' nor ``heavier than a paper of
lamp-black,'' and ``not strong enough to haul a shad off a
gridiron,'' but who was now ``as long as a spare topmast, strong
enough to knock down an ox, and hearty enough to eat him.'' We
fisted the sail together, and, after six or eight minutes of hard
hauling and pulling and beating down the sail, which was about as
stiff as sheet-iron, we managed to get it furled; and snugly
furled it must be, for we knew the mate well enough to be certain
that if it got adrift again we should be called up from our watch
below, at any hour of the night, to furl it.
I had been on the lookout for a chance to jump below and clap on a
thick jacket and southwester; but when we got on deck we found
that eight bells had been struck, and the other watch gone below,
so that there were two hours of dog watch for us, and a plenty of
work to do. It had now set in for a steady gale from the
southwest; but we were not yet far enough to the southward to make
a fair wind of it, for we must give Terra del Fuego a wide berth.
The decks were covered with snow, and there was a constant driving
of sleet. In fact, Cape Horn had set in with good earnest. In the
midst of all this, and before it became dark, we had all the
studding-sails to make up and stow away, and then to lay aloft and
rig in all the booms, fore and aft, and coil away the tacks,
sheets, and halyards. This was pretty tough work for four or five
hands, in the face of a gale which almost took us off the yards,
and with ropes so stiff with ice that it was almost impossible to
bend them. I was nearly half an hour out on the end of the fore
yard, trying to coil away and stop down the topmast studding-sail
tack and lower halyards. It was after dark when we got through,
and we were not a little pleased to hear four bells struck, which
sent us below for two hours, and gave us each a pot of hot tea
with our cold beef and bread, and, what was better yet, a suit of
thick, dry clothing, fitted for the weather, in place of our thin
clothes, which were wet through and now frozen stiff.
This sudden turn, for which we were so little prepared, was as
unacceptable to me as to any of the rest; for I had been troubled
for several days with a slight toothache, and this cold weather
and wetting and freezing were not the best things in the world for
it. I soon found that it was getting strong hold, and running over
all parts of my face; and before the watch was out I went aft to
the mate, who had charge of the medicine-chest, to get something
for it. But the chest showed like the end of a long voyage, for
there was nothing that would answer but a few drops of laudanum,
which must be saved for an emergency; so I had only to bear the
pain as well as I could.
When we went on deck at eight bells, it had stopped snowing, and
there were a few stars out, but the clouds were still black, and
it was blowing a steady gale. Just before midnight, I went aloft
and sent down the mizzen royal yard, and had the good luck to do
it to the satisfaction of the mate, who said it was done ``out of
hand and ship-shape.'' The next four hours below were but little
relief to me, for I lay awake in my berth the whole time, from the
pain in my face, and heard every bell strike, and, at four
o'clock, turned out with the watch, feeling little spirit for the
hard duties of the day. Bad weather and hard work at sea can be
borne up against very well if one only has spirit and health; but
there is nothing brings a man down, at such a time, like bodily
pain and want of sleep. There was, however, too much to do to
allow time to think; for the gale of yesterday, and the heavy seas
we met with a few days before, while we had yet ten degrees more
southing to make, had convinced the captain that we had something
before us which was not to be trifled with, and orders were given
to send down the long top-gallant-masts. The top-gallant and royal
yards were accordingly struck, the flying jib-boom rigged in, and
the top-gallant-masts sent down on deck, and all lashed together
by the side of the long-boat. The rigging was then sent down and
coiled away below, and everything made snug aloft. There was not a
sailor in the ship who was not rejoiced to see these sticks come
down; for, so long as the yards were aloft, on the least sign of a
lull, the top-gallant-sails were loosed, and then we had to furl
them again in a snow-squall, and shin up and down single ropes
caked with ice, and send royal yards down in the teeth of a gale
coming right from the south pole. It was an interesting sight,
too, to see our noble ship, dismantled of all her top-hamper of
long tapering masts and yards, and boom pointed with spear-head,
which ornamented her in port; and all that canvas, which a few
days before had covered her like a cloud, from the truck to the
water's edge, spreading far out beyond her hull on either side,
now gone; and she stripped, like a wrestler for the fight. It
corresponded, too, with the desolate character of her situation,--
alone, as she was, battling with storms, wind, and ice, at this
extremity of the globe, and in almost constant night.
Friday, July 1st. We were now nearly up to the latitude of Cape
Horn, and having over forty degrees of easting to make, we squared
away the yards before a strong westerly gale, shook a reef out of
the fore topsail, and stood on our way, east-by-south, with the
prospect of being up with the Cape in a week or ten days. As for
myself, I had had no sleep for forty-eight hours; and the want of
rest, together with constant wet and cold, had increased the
swelling, so that my face was nearly as large as two, and I found
it impossible to get my mouth open wide enough to eat. In this
state, the steward applied to the captain for some rice to boil
for me, but he only got a-- ``No! d--- you! Tell him to eat salt
junk and hard bread, like the rest of them.'' This was, in truth,
what I expected. However, I did not starve, for Mr. Brown, who was
a man as well as a sailor, and had always been a good friend to
me, smuggled a pan of rice into the galley, and told the cook to
boil it for me, and not let the ``old man'' see it. Had it been
fine weather, or in port, I should have gone below and lain by
until my face got well; but in such weather as this, and
short-handed as we were, it was not for me to desert my post; so I
kept on deck, and stood my watch and did my duty as well as I
could.
Saturday, July 2d. This day the sun rose fair, but it ran too low
in the heavens to give any heat, or thaw out our sails and
rigging; yet the sight of it was pleasant; and we had a steady
``reef-topsail breeze'' from the westward. The atmosphere, which
had previously been clear and cold, for the last few hours grew
damp, and had a disagreeable, wet chilliness in it; and the man
who came from the wheel said he heard the captain tell ``the
passenger'' that the thermometer had fallen several degrees since
morning, which he could not account for in any other way than by
supposing that there must be ice near us; though such a thing was
rarely heard of in this latitude at this season of the year. At
twelve o'clock we went below, and had just got through dinner,
when the cook put his head down the scuttle and told us to come on
deck and see the finest sight that we had ever seen. ``Where away,
Doctor?''[1] asked the first man who was up. ``On the larboard
bow.'' And there lay, floating in the ocean, several miles off, an
immense, irregular mass, its top and points covered with snow, and
its centre of a deep indigo color. This was an iceberg, and of the
largest size, as one of our men said who had been in the Northern
Ocean. As far as the eye could reach, the sea in every direction
was of a deep blue color, the waves running high and fresh, and
sparkling in the light, and in the midst lay this immense
mountain-island, its cavities and valleys thrown into deep shade,
and its points and pinnacles glittering in the sun. All hands were
soon on deck, looking at it, and admiring in various ways its
beauty and grandeur. But no description can give any idea of the
strangeness, splendor, and, really, the sublimity, of the sight.
Its great size,-- for it must have been from two to three miles in
circumference, and several hundred feet in height,-- its slow
motion, as its base rose and sank in the water, and its high
points nodded against the clouds; the dashing of the waves upon
it, which, breaking high with foam, lined its base with a white
crust; and the thundering sound of the cracking of the mass, and
the breaking and tumbling down of huge pieces; together with its
nearness and approach, which added a slight element of fear,-- all
combined to give to it the character of true sublimity. The main
body of the mass was, as I have said, of an indigo color, its base
crusted with frozen foam; and as it grew thin and transparent
toward the edges and top, its color shaded off from a deep blue to
the whiteness of snow. It seemed to be drifting slowly toward the
north, so that we kept away and avoided it. It was in sight all
the afternoon; and when we got to leeward of it the wind died
away, so that we lay-to quite near it for a greater part of the
night. Unfortunately, there was no moon, but it was a clear night,
and we could plainly mark the long, regular heaving of the
stupendous mass, as its edges moved slowly against the stars, now
revealing them, and now shutting them in. Several times in our
watch loud cracks were heard, which sounded as though they must
have run through the whole length of the iceberg, and several
pieces fell down with a thundering crash, plunging heavily into
the sea. Toward morning a strong breeze sprang up, and we filled
away, and left it astern, and at daylight it was out of sight. The
next day, which was--
Sunday, July 3d, the breeze continued strong, the air exceedingly
chilly, and the thermometer low. In the course of the day we saw
several icebergs of different sizes, but none so near as the one
which we saw the day before. Some of them, as well as we could
judge, at the distance at which we were, must have been as large
as that, if not larger. At noon we were in latitude 55° 12' south,
and supposed longitude 89° 5' west. Toward night the wind hauled
to the southward, and headed us off our course a little, and blew
a tremendous gale; but this we did not mind, as there was no rain
nor snow, and we were already under close sail.
Monday, July 4th. This was ``Independence Day'' in Boston. What
firing of guns, and ringing of bells, and rejoicings of all sorts,
in every part of our country! The ladies (who have not gone down to
Nahant, for a breath of cool air and sight of the ocean) walking the
streets with parasols over their heads, and the dandies in their
white pantaloons and silk stockings! What quantities of ice-cream
have been eaten, and how many loads of ice brought into the city from
a distance, and sold out by the lump and the pound! The smallest
of the islands which we saw to-day would have made the fortune of
poor Jack, if he had had it in Boston; and I dare say he would have
had no objection to being there with it. This, to be sure, was no
place to keep the Fourth of July. To keep ourselves warm, and the
ship out of the ice, was as much as we could do. Yet no one forgot
the day; and many were the wishes and conjectures and comparisons,
both serious and ludicrous, which were made among all hands. The sun
shone bright as long as it was up, only that a scud of black clouds
was ever and anon driving across it. At noon we were in
lat. 54° 27' S., and lon. 85° 5' W., having made a good deal of
easting, but having lost in our latitude by the heading off of the
wind. Between daylight and dark-- that is, between nine o'clock and
three-- we saw thirty-four ice islands of various sizes; some no
bigger than the hull of our vessel, and others apparently nearly as
large as the one that we first saw; though, as we went on, the
islands became smaller and more numerous; and, at sundown of this
day, a man at the mast-head saw large tracts of floating ice, called
``field-ice,'' at the southeast. This kind of ice is much more
dangerous than the large islands, for those can be seen at a
distance, and kept away from; but the field-ice, floating in great
quantities, and covering the ocean for miles and miles, in pieces
of every size,-- large, flat, and broken cakes, with here and there
an island rising twenty and thirty feet, and as large as the ship's
hull,-- this it is very difficult to sheer clear of. A constant
lookout was necessary; for many of these pieces, coming with the
heave of the sea, were large enough to have knocked a hole in the
ship, and that would have been the end of us; for no boat (even if
we could have got one out) could have lived in such a sea; and no
man could have lived in a boat in such weather. To make our
condition still worse, the wind came out due east, just after
sundown, and it blew a gale dead ahead, with hail and sleet and a
thick fog, so that we could not see half the length of the ship. Our
chief reliance, the prevailing westerly gales, was thus cut off; and
here we were, nearly seven hundred miles to the westward of the
Cape, with a gale dead from the eastward, and the weather so thick
that we could not see the ice, with which we were surrounded, until
it was directly under our bows. At four P.M. (it was then quite
dark) all hands were called, and sent aloft, in a violent squall
of hail and rain, to take in sail. We had now all got on our ``Cape
Horn rig,''-- thick boots, southwesters coming down over our neck
and ears, thick trousers and jackets, and some with oil-cloth suits
over all. Mittens, too, we wore on deck, but it would not do to go
aloft with them, as, being wet and stiff, they might let a man
slip overboard, for all the hold he could get upon a rope: so we
were obliged to work with bare hands, which, as well as our faces,
were often cut with the hailstones, which fell thick and large.
Our ship was now all cased with ice,-- hull, spars, and standing
rigging; and the running rigging so stiff that we could hardly
bend it so as to belay it, or, still less, take a knot with it;
and the sails frozen. One at a time (for it was a long piece of
work and required many hands) we furled the courses, mizzen
topsail, and fore-topmast staysail, and close-reefed the fore and
main topsails, and hove the ship to under the fore, with the main
hauled up by the clew-lines and buntlines, and ready to be sheeted
home, if we found it necessary to make sail to get to windward of
an ice island. A regular lookout was then set, and kept by each
watch in turn, until the morning. It was a tedious and anxious
night. It blew hard the whole time, and there was an almost
constant driving of either rain, hail, or snow. In addition to
this, it was ``as thick as muck,'' and the ice was all about us.
The captain was on deck nearly the whole night, and kept the cook
in the galley, with a roaring fire, to make coffee for him, which
he took every few hours, and once or twice gave a little to his
officers; but not a drop of anything was there for the crew. The
captain, who sleeps all the daytime, and comes and goes at night
as he chooses, can have his brandy-and-water in the cabin, and his
hot coffee at the galley; while Jack, who has to stand through
everything, and work in wet and cold, can have nothing to wet his
lips or warm his stomach. This was a ``temperance ship'' by her
articles, and, like too many such ships, the temperance was all in
the forecastle. The sailor, who only takes his one glass as it is
dealt out to him, is in danger of being drunk; while the captain,
upon whose self-possession and cool judgment the lives of all
depend, may be trusted with any amount, to drink at his will.
Sailors will never be convinced that rum is a dangerous thing by
taking it away from them and giving it to the officers; nor can
they see a friend in that temperance which takes from them what
they have always had, and gives them nothing in the place of it.
By seeing it allowed to their officers, they will not be convinced
that it is taken from them for their good; and by receiving
nothing in its place they will not believe that it is done in
kindness. On the contrary, many of them look upon the change as a
new instrument of tyranny. Not that they prefer rum. I never knew
a sailor, who had been a month away from the grog shops, who would
not prefer a pot of hot coffee or chocolate, in a cold night, to
all the rum afloat. They all say that rum only warms them for a
time; yet, if they can get nothing better, they will miss what
they have lost. The momentary warmth and glow from drinking it;
the break and change which it makes in a long, dreary watch by the
mere calling all hands aft and serving of it out; and the simply
having some event to look forward to and to talk about,-- all give
it an importance and a use which no one can appreciate who has not
stood his watch before the mast. On my passage out, the Pilgrim
was not under temperance articles, and grog was served out every
middle and morning watch, and after every reefing of topsails;
and, though I had never drunk rum before, nor desire to again, I
took my allowance then at the capstan, as the rest did, merely for
the momentary warmth it gave the system, and the change in our
feelings and aspect of our duties on the watch. At the same time,
as I have said, there was not a man on board who would not have
pitched the rum to the dogs (I have heard them say so a dozen
times) for a pot of coffee or chocolate; or even for our common
beverage,-- ``water bewitched and tea begrudged,'' as it was.[2]
The temperance reform is the best thing that ever was undertaken for
the sailor; but when the grog is taken from him, he ought to have
something in its place. As it is now, in most vessels, it is a
mere saving to the owners; and this accounts for the sudden
increase of temperance ships, which surprised even the best
friends of the cause. If every merchant, when he struck grog from
the list of the expenses of his ship, had been obliged to
substitute as much coffee, or chocolate, as would give each man a
pot-full when he came off the topsail yard, on a stormy night,--
I fear Jack might have gone to ruin on the old road.[3]
But this is not doubling Cape Horn. Eight hours of the night our
watch was on deck, and during the whole of that time we kept a
bright lookout: one man on each bow, another in the bunt of the
fore yard, the third mate on the scuttle, one man on each quarter,
and another always standing by the wheel. The chief mate was
everywhere, and commanded the ship when the captain was below.
When a large piece of ice was seen in our way, or drifting near
us, the word was passed along, and the ship's head turned one way
and another; and sometimes the yards squared or braced up. There
was little else to do than to look out; and we had the sharpest
eyes in the ship on the forecastle. The only variety was the
monotonous voice of the lookout forward,-- ``Another island!''--
``Ice ahead!''-- ``Ice on the lee bow!''-- ``Hard up the helm!''--
``Keep her off a little!''-- ``Stead-y!''
In the mean time the wet and cold had brought my face into such a
state that I could neither eat nor sleep; and though I stood it
out all night, yet, when it became light, I was in such a state
that all hands told me I must go below, and lie-by for a day or
two, or I should be laid up for a long time. When the watch was
changed I went into the steerage, and took off my hat and
comforter, and showed my face to the mate, who told me to go below
at once, and stay in my berth until the swelling went down, and
gave the cook orders to make a poultice for me, and said he would
speak to the captain.
I went below and turned-in, covering myself over with blankets and
jackets, and lay in my berth nearly twenty-four hours, half asleep
and half awake, stupid from the dull pain. I heard the watch
called, and the men going up and down, and sometimes a noise on
deck, and a cry of ``ice,'' but I gave little attention to
anything. At the end of twenty-four hours the pain went down, and
I had a long sleep, which brought me back to my proper state; yet
my face was so swollen and tender that I was obliged to keep my
berth for two or three days longer. During the two days I had been
below, the weather was much the same that it had been,-- head
winds, and snow and rain; or, if the wind came fair, too foggy,
and the ice too thick, to run. At the end of the third day the ice
was very thick; a complete fog-bank covered the ship. It blew a
tremendous gale from the eastward, with sleet and snow, and there
was every promise of a dangerous and fatiguing night. At dark, the
captain called all hands aft, and told them that not a man was to
leave the deck that night; that the ship was in the greatest
danger, any cake of ice might knock a hole in her, or she might
run on an island and go to pieces. No one could tell whether she
would be a ship the next morning. The lookouts were then set, and
every man was put in his station. When I heard what was the state
of things, I began to put on my clothes to stand it out with the
rest of them, when the mate came below, and, looking at my face,
ordered me back to my berth, saying that if we went down, we
should all go down together, but if I went on deck I might lay
myself up for life. This was the first word I had heard from aft;
for the captain had done nothing, nor inquired how I was, since I
went below.
In obedience to the mate's orders, I went back to my berth; but a
more miserable night I never wish to spend. I never felt the curse
of sickness so keenly in my life. If I could only have been on
deck with the rest where something was to be done and seen and
heard, where there were fellow-beings for companions in duty and
danger; but to be cooped up alone in a black hole, in equal
danger, but without the power to do, was the hardest trial.
Several times, in the course of the night, I got up, determined to
go on deck; but the silence which showed that there was nothing
doing, and the knowledge that I might make myself seriously ill,
for no purpose, kept me back. It was not easy to sleep, lying, as
I did, with my head directly against the bows, which might be
dashed in by an island of ice, brought down by the very next sea
that struck her. This was the only time I had been ill since I
left Boston, and it was the worst time it could have happened. I
felt almost willing to bear the plagues of Egypt for the rest of
the voyage, if I could but be well and strong for that one night.
Yet it was a dreadful night for those on deck. A watch of eighteen
hours, with wet and cold and constant anxiety, nearly wore them
out; and when they came below at nine o'clock for breakfast, they
almost dropped asleep on their chests, and some of them were so
stiff that they could with difficulty sit down. Not a drop of
anything had been given them during the whole time (though the
captain, as on the night that I was on deck, had his coffee every
four hours), except that the mate stole a pot-full of coffee for
two men to drink behind the galley, while he kept a lookout for
the captain. Every man had his station, and was not allowed to
leave it; and nothing happened to break the monotony of the night,
except once setting the main topsail, to run clear of a large
island to leeward, which they were drifting fast upon. Some of the
boys got so sleepy and stupefied that they actually fell asleep at
their posts; and the young third mate, Mr. Hatch, whose post was
the exposed one of standing on the fore scuttle, was so stiff,
when he was relieved, that he could not bend his knees to get
down. By a constant lookout, and a quick shifting of the helm, as
the islands and pieces came in sight, the ship went clear of
everything but a few small pieces, though daylight showed the
ocean covered for miles. At daybreak it fell a dead calm, and with
the sun the fog cleared a little, and a breeze sprung up from the
westward, which soon grew into a gale. We had now a fair wind,
daylight, and comparatively clear weather; yet, to the surprise of
every one, the ship continued hove-to. ``Why does not he run?''
``What is the captain about?'' was asked by every one; and from
questions it soon grew into complaints and murmurings. When the
daylight was so short, it was too bad to lose it, and a fair wind,
too, which every one had been praying for. As hour followed hour,
and the captain showed no sign of making sail, the crew became
impatient, and there was a good deal of talking and consultation
together on the forecastle. They had been beaten out with the
exposure and hardship, and impatient to get out of it, and this
unaccountable delay was more than they could bear in quietness, in
their excited and restless state. Some said the captain was
frightened,-- completely cowed by the dangers and difficulties
that surrounded us, and was afraid to make sail; while others said
that in his anxiety and suspense he had made a free use of brandy
and opium, and was unfit for his duty. The carpenter, who was an
intelligent man, and a thorough seaman, and had great influence
with the crew, came down into the forecastle, and tried to induce
them to go aft and ask the captain why he did not run, or request
him, in the name of all hands, to make sail. This appeared to be a
very reasonable request, and the crew agreed that if he did not
make sail before noon they would go aft. Noon came, and no sail
was made. A consultation was held again, and it was proposed to
take the ship from the captain and give the command of her to the
mate, who had been heard to say that if he could have his way the
ship would have been half the distance to the Cape before night,--
ice or no ice. And so irritated and impatient had the crew become,
that even this proposition, which was open mutiny, was
entertained, and the carpenter went to his berth, leaving it
tacitly understood that something serious would be done if things
remained as they were many hours longer. When the carpenter left,
we talked it all over, and I gave my advice strongly against it.
Another of the men, too, who had known something of the kind
attempted in another ship by a crew who were dissatisfied with
their captain, and which was followed with serious consequences,
was opposed to it. Stimson, who soon came down, joined us, and we
determined to have nothing to do with it. By these means the crew
were soon induced to give it up for the present, though they said
they would not lie where they were much longer without knowing the
reason.
The affair remained in this state until four o'clock, when an
order came forward for all hands to come aft upon the
quarter-deck. In about ten minutes they came forward again, and
the whole affair had been blown. The carpenter, prematurely, and
without any authority from the crew, had sounded the mate as to
whether he would take command of the ship, and intimated an
intention to displace the captain; and the mate, as in duty bound,
had told the whole to the captain, who immediately sent for all
hands aft. Instead of violent measures, or, at least, an outbreak
of quarter-deck bravado, threats, and abuse, which they had every
reason to expect, a sense of common danger and common suffering
seemed to have tamed his spirit, and begotten in him something
like a humane fellow-feeling; for he received the crew in a manner
quiet, and even almost kind. He told them what he had heard, and
said that he did not believe that they would try to do any such
thing as was intimated; that they had always been good men,--
obedient, and knew their duty, and he had no fault to find with
them, and asked them what they had to complain of; said that no
one could say that he was slow to carry sail (which was true
enough), and that, as soon as he thought it was safe and proper,
he should make sail. He added a few words about their duty in
their present situation, and sent them forward, saying that he
should take no further notice of the matter; but, at the same
time, told the carpenter to recollect whose power he was in, and
that if he heard another word from him he would have cause to
remember him to the day of his death.
This language of the captain had a very good effect upon the crew,
and they returned quietly to their duty.
For two days more the wind blew from the southward and eastward,
and in the short intervals when it was fair, the ice was too thick
to run; yet the weather was not so dreadfully bad, and the crew
had watch and watch. I still remained in my berth, fast
recovering, yet not well enough to go safely on deck. And I should
have been perfectly useless; for, from having eaten nothing for
nearly a week, except a little rice which I forced into my mouth
the last day or two, I was as weak as an infant. To be sick in a
forecastle is miserable indeed. It is the worst part of a dog's
life, especially in bad weather. The forecastle, shut up tight to
keep out the water and cold air; the watch either on deck or
asleep in their berths; no one to speak to; the pale light of the
single lamp, swinging to and fro from the beam, so dim that one
can scarcely see, much less read, by it; the water dropping from
the beams and carlines and running down the sides, and the
forecastle so wet and dark and cheerless, and so lumbered up with
chests and wet clothes, that sitting up is worse than lying in the
berth. These are some of the evils. Fortunately, I needed no help
from any one, and no medicine; and if I had needed help I don't
know where I should have found it. Sailors are willing enough, but
it is true, as is often said,-- no one ships for nurse on board a
vessel. Our merchant ships are always undermanned, and if one man
is lost by sickness, they cannot spare another to take care of
him. A sailor is always presumed to be well, and if he's sick he's
a poor dog. One has to stand his wheel, and another his lookout,
and the sooner he gets on deck again the better.
Accordingly, as soon as I could possibly go back to my duty, I put
on my thick clothes and boots and southwester, and made my
appearance on deck. I had been but a few days below, yet
everything looked strangely enough. The ship was cased in ice,--
decks, sides, masts, yards, and rigging. Two close-reefed topsails
were all the sail she had on, and every sail and rope was frozen
so stiff in its place that it seemed as though it would be
impossible to start anything. Reduced, too, to her topmasts, she
had altogether a most forlorn and crippled appearance. The sun had
come up brightly; the snow was swept off the decks and ashes
thrown upon them so that we could walk, for they had been as
slippery as glass. It was, of course, too cold to carry on any
ship's work, and we had only to walk the deck and keep ourselves
warm. The wind was still ahead, and the whole ocean, to the
eastward, covered with islands and field-ice. At four bells the
order was given to square away the yards, and the man who came
from the helm said that the captain had kept her off to N. N. E.
What could this mean? The wildest rumors got adrift. Some said
that he was going to put into Valparaiso and winter, and others
that he was going to run out of the ice and cross the Pacific, and
go home round the Cape of Good Hope. Soon, however, it leaked out,
and we found that we were running for the Straits of Magellan. The
news soon spread through the ship, and all tongues were at work
talking about it. No one on board had been through the straits;
but I had in my chest an account of the passage of the ship A. J.
Donelson, of New York, through those straits a few years before.
The account was given by the captain, and the representation was
as favorable as possible. It was soon read by every one on board,
and various opinions pronounced. The determination of our captain
had at least this good effect; it gave us something to think and
talk about, made a break in our life, and diverted our minds from
the monotonous dreariness of the prospect before us. Having made a
fair wind of it, we were going off at a good rate, and leaving the
thickest of the ice behind us. This, at least, was something.
Having been long enough below to get my hands well warmed and
softened, the first handling of the ropes was rather tough; but a
few days hardened them, and as soon as I got my mouth open wide
enough to take in a piece of salt beef and hard bread, I was all
right again.
Sunday, July 10th. Lat. 54° 10', lon. 79° 07'. This was our position
at noon. The sun was out bright; the ice was all left behind, and
things had quite a cheering appearance. We brought our wet
pea-jackets and trousers on deck, and hung them up in the rigging,
that the breeze and the few hours of sun might dry them a little;
and, by leave of the cook, the galley was nearly filled with
stockings and mittens, hung round to be dried. Boots, too, were
brought up; and, having got a little tar and slush from below, we
gave them thick coats. After dinner all hands were turned-to, to get
the anchors over the bows, bend on the chains, &c. The fish-tackle
was got up, fish-davit rigged out, and, after two or three hours of
hard and cold work, both the anchors were ready for instant use, a
couple of kedges got up, a hawser coiled away upon the fore-hatch,
and the deep-sea-lead-line overhauled and made ready. Our spirits
returned with having something to do; and when the tackle was
manned to bowse the anchor home, notwithstanding the desolation of
the scene, we struck up ``Cheerly, men!'' in full chorus. This
pleased the mate, who rubbed his hands and cried out, ``That's
right, my boys; never say die! That sounds like the old crew!''
and the captain came up, on hearing the song, and said to the
passenger, within hearing of the man at the wheel, ``That sounds
like a lively crew. They'll have their song so long as there're
enough left for a chorus!''
This preparation of the cable and anchors was for the passage of
the straits; for, as they are very crooked, and with a variety of
currents, it is necessary to come frequently to anchor. This was
not, by any means, a pleasant prospect; for, of all the work that
a sailor is called upon to do in cold weather, there is none so
bad as working the ground-tackle. The heavy chain cables to be
hauled and pulled about decks with bare hands; wet hawsers,
slip-ropes, and buoy-ropes to be hauled aboard, dripping in water,
which is running up your sleeves, and freezing; clearing hawse
under the bows; getting under way and coming-to at all hours of
the night and day, and a constant lookout for rocks and sands and
turns of tides,-- these are some of the disagreeables of such a
navigation to a common sailor. Fair or foul, he wants to have
nothing to do with the ground-tackle between port and port. One of
our hands, too, had unluckily fallen upon a half of an old
newspaper which contained an account of the passage, through the
straits, of a Boston brig, called, I think, the Peruvian, in which
she lost every cable and anchor she had, got aground twice, and
arrived at Valparaiso in distress. This was set off against the
account of the A. J. Donelson, and led us to look forward with
less confidence to the passage, especially as no one on board had
ever been through, and we heard that the captain had no very
satisfactory charts. However, we were spared any further
experience on the point; for the next day, when we must have been
near the Cape of Pillars, which is the southwest point of the
mouth of the straits, a gale set in from the eastward, with a
heavy fog, so that we could not see half the ship's length ahead.
This, of course, put an end to the project for the present; for a
thick fog and a gale blowing dead ahead are not the most favorable
circumstances for the passage of difficult and dangerous straits.
This weather, too, seemed likely to last for some time, and we
could not think of beating about the mouth of the straits for a
week or two, waiting for a favorable opportunity; so we braced up
on the larboard tack, put the ship's head due south, and stuck her
off for Cape Horn again.
[1] The cook's title in all vessels.
[2] The proportions of the ingredients of the tea that was made for
us (and ours, as I have before stated, was a favorable specimen of
American merchantmen) were a pint of tea and a pint and a half of
molasses to about three gallons of water. These are all boiled
down together in the ``coppers,'' and, before serving it out, the
mess is stirred up with a stick, so as to give each man his fair
share of sweetening and tea-leaves. The tea for the cabin is, of
course, made in the usual way, in a teapot, and drunk with sugar.
[3] I do not wish these remarks, so far as they relate to the saving
of expense in the outfit, to be applied to the owners of our ship,
for she was supplied with an abundance of stores of the best kind
that are given to seamen; though the dispensing of them is
necessarily left to the captain. And I learned, on our return,
that the captain withheld many of the stores from us, from mere
ugliness. He brought several barrels of flour home, but would not
give us the usual twice-a-week duff, and so as to other stores.
Indeed, so high was the reputation of ``the employ'' among men and
officers for the character and outfit of their vessels, and for
their liberality in conducting their voyages, that when it was
known that they had the Alert fitting out for a long voyage, and
that hands were to be shipped at a certain time,-- a half hour
before the time, as one of the crew told me, sailors were steering
down the wharf, hopping over the barrels, like a drove of sheep.